


Look into my eyes

by wanderingsmith



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>slightly OOC cracky.  The love at first sight trope.  Minus godly intervention and cracky dwarven customs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look into my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.
> 
> With hugs and thanks to my two lovely listeners of whine, and offerers of thought-inducing thoughts, and.. a couple lines in this I *know* came from them so.. many many thanks to overtherisingstar and Bofursunboundbraids

You turn from the ever-so-commonplace pleasure of greeting friends and family,  
Ready to be disappointed, ready to dismiss.

You hear his voice and feel an odd shiver,  
You look up and see him standing with his side to you, and your eyes are drawn,  
The shape of the body, the way he moves, the colours,  
Eyes pulled as though magicked,  
Every other sound and sight forgotten, blanked out,  
He turns to you and his voice sounds stronger, his eyes and expression adding volume to it,  
And together those three are heralds of his soul,  
And you cannot help but stare, wishing to know everything of him,  
A hunger that thinks he can fill every rift life has left in your heart and soul,  
That he can double joy and halve sorrow.  
And you want to know.  
You want to know.

He knew he had taken all the time gazing silently that he could. Gandalf had finished his introduction too long ago, and the hobbit, still frowning with no doubt more unspoken grumbles at the damage to his door, was looking in his direction distractedly. However much he would have preferred to stand staring for a lifetime, or at least an evening, Thorin instead dropped to one knee, a bow feeling entirely insufficient to express the nigh overwhelming feeling coursing through him. Aware but utterly uncaring of his company behind him making sounds of shock and confusion.

 

"Thorin? Thorin, are you well?"  
"I think we broke him."  
"I think the burglar broke him..."

 

Ignoring the mutters of his adviser and nephews, Thorin sought refuge in ritual to find words, "I would... I would offer you .. my most.. personal service. But I cannot..." he shook his head, mind too taken with continuing to stare hungrily at every inch of the lovely, soft, lively creature now staring back at him with wide, surprised, curious eyes to bother with keeping his own features clear of what he felt. He no doubt showed clearly the conflict raging in his heart, "I must help my people; I cannot forgo this quest. Not.. not even for-" he had to take a deep breath before the words he had long given up speaking would come, "For love." Love! Mahal! He had not understood just how stunning that small word's power was. Had never thought the shape of another being could become his soul. 

"For- ..what?" Bilbo's eyes widened even more and he could feel his mouth hanging no doubt unattractively open, but.. but.. *Love*??? What... He stared at the newest stranger in his house, the most beautiful blue gaze he'd ever encountered shining back at him, slightly below his level now that the tall dwarf had .. had.. *gone to one knee*!! Love?? But they'd only just laid eyes on each other! How could he *possibly*...

Huffing a single laugh, Thorin's lips twisted in wry gratitude for the hobbit's polite shock. He could just imagine how *he* would have reacted to such a claim, and it was not nearly so charitable. Nonetheless, speaking from his heart was an effort, a language he had not learned, let along practised. "For love." 

Through the hobbit's shock, he could see kindness in those serious brown eyes; no distrust, fear or disgust, even with Thorin's no doubt mad-seeming statement. Only calm strength, that *called* to Thorin.. oh it truly did. "I have..." such peace in his features; hairless, smooth skin, but with so much more character and life than cold elves could ever hope for, "I have.. fallen. In love with you. Master Baggins." he had to look away, the well-maintained floor offering a safe haven from the shame, "I wish I could offer to court as you deserve, as I .. wish. But I. Cannot. I *must*-" and if he died? He would never know.. His eyes closed, head bowing in silent grief.

 

Well now, a *Durin* of all dwarrows. *Falling* with such drama. Dori tightened his lips to keep from smiling too obviously. At least the king had good taste: the little hobbit was a proper gentle-body. If the creature agreed to follow its surprise-suitor, the quest suddenly promised to offer far more lively entertainment than they'd had a right to expect. Watching a king, and a *Durin*, courting from the Wild.. My my indeed! And a fellow tea-lover among his uncouth companions! How perfectly delightful.

 

Thorin opened his eyes when he felt movement near. Seeing first a pair of bare feet, long and thick, tough and their tops as hairy as that of Thorin's hands. Resisting the longing that pulled at his arm to reach out and touch, to see their skin next to each other, he instead trailed his eyes up equally-unclothed calves, with the strong muscles of one who depended on his own legs to travel; and only a light dusting of the palest hair, compared to his own hair-covered limbs. Up over those strange short and loose trousers, forcing himself not to let the fire he felt light his eyes pause over the material at his groin. The shirt looked so very soft and airy his fingers itched to stroke it, to see how his love's skin would feel through it. Would the heat burn him? Would touching the soft flesh from his love's peaceful life be as soothing as he imagined?

Up the temptingly vulnerable throat, and Thorin could no longer avoid meeting the hobbit's gaze, expecting pity or annoyance. Instead, there was only a wondering warmth.

When he'd originally stepped closer to the dwarf, Bilbo had simply wished to offer the forgiveness that seemed appropriate to his strange, guilty words. But watching the slow crawl of those eyes along his body was an awakening. The tingle and burn of every inch of his flesh, caused by nothing but a *look*, for the love of all that is green in Arda, was something he had never felt. Meeting the flames in wide, darkened eyes and the tightened skin over the dwarf's cheekbones, Bilbo began to suspect that whatever madness had taken this 'Thorin', he was perhaps not immune.

But not even the slow burn of shocking lust would make him forget his manners; he was a Baggins of Bag End, by the Valar! He cleared his throat, offering a hand for the sentiment rather than any help that his short stature could offer the obviously powerful figure to rise, "I think-" he had to clear his throat again when he heard the shocking husky sound of his voice; nothing compared to the deep gravel of his strange suitor, but nothing like his own voice either, "I think you should let me serve you something to fill your belly. And then perhaps you could explain wh-" his breath caught at the grip of thick, callused fingers around his smaller hand, even with the stiff material of the dwarf's bracer between the two of them, "Why you are all her-" Oh. Oh dear. Dry, chapped lips warm on the back of his hand, oh that was-! He meant to jerk his hand back, he did. If he didn't, he would be assaulting the dwarf.. in front of those *other* dwarves! *And* a wizard. Which would be entirely rude behaviour to even uninvited guests.

Thorin had all but convinced himself he would have to leave his newfound love behind, and likely die never having even tried to win him. Seeing undisguised hunger flash in his hobbit's expression was so far beyond his expectations that he hardly felt the shove Kíli gave him when he stood too long with his lips on oh so soft, pale skin.

He allowed Gandalf to usher him and the hobbit to the dining table with an amused look that should have made the king furious, but that he could not find a reason to object to. He knew his company gathered around, but was hardly aware of them. With his attention so taken, he willingly let Gandalf tell the story of his home, instead unable to help relishing the tension in his core at the presence so near behind him. He had never felt so alive outside the battlefield, never desired for all Arda to stop and leave him to enjoy the moment, though he would be pleased if his love joined him in his moment.. 

When the hobbit started asking questions, however, he was pulled out of his preoccupation with his own body and mind, and back to the people surrounding him. Could Bilbo truly be considering joining them?? ...He would have the chance to press his suit!

But for the hobbit to risk death at his side. That... That did *not* sit well with Thorin. And yet. When he met those eyes coming up from the map, shining with some curiosity, some longing... Could he deny the creature? He had offered his service, twice; he could not take that back by denying his love.

In the end, it was Bilbo that dragged *him* to the hobbit's own bed that night, saying it would sleep a vague 'elsewhere'. Showing his teeth, Thorin insisted they could share. He was not a child or a brute who could not control himself.

And the two of them, in Bilbo's cozy room, the fire burning low, spoke in hushed tones late into the night, of Erebor, the Shire, working the forge and baking. No mention of love: lying on a bed as they were. Nor even something as close as families. No mention of the Quest. Instead, they compared books and songs, traditions and foolish customs. Neither quite ready to end the strange evening, but neither quite willing to bring up the future.

Until Thorin noticed the hobbit's lashes fluttering, fighting off sleep, and he pulled the weary body against his side and sang him to sleep, a strange calm coming over him to sing of his hopefully soon-to-be-reclaimed home... while holding one he wished even more strongly to claim. He whispered, needing it said but unwilling to disturb the warm weight in his arms with such gloom, "If there is any way that I can survive this, I swear I will return to you." Then he finally allowed himself to rest, the scent of the sweetest life he had ever known filling him.

\------------------------------

"You are NOT!" Thorin was faintly aware that he was almost using the tone he had practised for groups of recalcitrant dwarrows, but he could not help it with the way his pulse was pounding in sudden fear.

"Thorin, stop interfering, I need to find a clean handkerchief and you said you wanted to leave by first light."

"You are NOT coming! I WILL not have you in danger!"

Bilbo turned with his hands on his hips to stare at his suitor firmly, "Very used to getting your way, aren't you? You'd better get over that, and quick. If it's so dangerous, that's all the more I don't let you go alone. No proper hobbit would allow a loved one into danger without them."

It took Bilbo bouncing off the unmoving dwarf as he turned from his dresser to realize that he'd suddenly gone silent and look up to see a terribly vulnerable look on the previously glowering features.

"Loved One?"

Bilbo softened at the choked husk, reaching up to slide his fingers through the short beard and giving his dwarf a gentle smile, "Aye. If I hadn't been so preoccupied by the shock of your company's invasion of my home, I suspect I would have been just as..." His hand made its way to the nape of Thorin's neck and he pressed, tilting his head up in invitation of a kiss, soft and tentative on both their parts. He let the dwarf pull back only enough to speak clearly, "Just as bowled-over as you were." 

Rather than let Thorin find the words to get as huffy as his suddenly regal expression promised, Bilbo covered the tiny distance between them and sealed his lips with another kiss. This one much longer, and full of definite promises.


End file.
